


The Party, Oh Dorian

by PropShopHannah



Series: Throne of Glass prompts and asks [6]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Drunk Dorian, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-06 01:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8729284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PropShopHannah/pseuds/PropShopHannah
Summary: Anon said: "I saw your drunk Dorian chat post thing where Manon is taking care of him and he's talking about her breasts. I was wondering if you could make that into a short story/fic and maybe have Dorian cry and say "but they're my breast friends!" ????? Please and thank you"





	

Manon unlocked the door to their apartment, ran in to set down her purse and keys, then went back into the hallway to pull Dorian from where she’d left him holding up the wall. She grabbed his shoulders and steered him into the living room. 

“Why don’t you have a seat right here,” she said, gently pushing him back onto the couch.

“Who are  _ you _ ?” he said, swaying side to side like captain Jack Sparrow. “Hot young  _ thang _ .” He smacked her ass. She tried not to laugh as she bent to remove his shoes.

“Hi, I’m your girlfriend, Manon,” she said. He giggled.

“I knowho you are silly-willy,” he slurred. She pulled off his socks and then went into the kitchen to get him a glass of water.

“Ooh more booze!” he said, wiggling his fingers for the glass when she returned.

“Babe, you’re done. I’m cutting you off.” He gave her a pouty face, but downed the glass of water anyways. “Did you have fun with your friends?” He held out the empty glass like he didn’t know what else he could possibly do with it. She took it from him.

“NO,” he said. “Rowan and Aelin is gettimarried. N’I’m...like I’ve nevur been a best man for a lady. You know?” He took his jacket off. Then his pants. “What if people wamme to throw them flowers? I don’t know what to do.” 

“I doubt anyone is going to ask you to throw flowers are them, babe,” she said, bending down to unhook his jeans from where they were caught around his ankles. He giggled. She looked up and found him staring down her dress. She rolled her eyes. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

She hauled him up off the couch and led him through the apartment. Somewhere between the couch and the bedroom he’d managed to lose his shirt. He plopped himself down on the edge of their bed in his briefs, and then grabbed her boobs.

“These are soft,” he said, hiccupping. “N’like, plush.” He giggled to himself. “I’m touching yer boobies.” She sighed and watched him squeeze and oggle her chest like some preteen boy who’d only ever seen boobs on the internet.

“You’ve touched them before, Dorian,” she said. She removed his hands and went to change into her pajamas. He followed her into the closet.

“But I’ve never appreciated them, you know?” She removed her dress and bra and his eyes and hands went straight to her breasts. “I juslike you gals,” he hiccupped, “so much. You’re my breast friends.” She rolled her eyes and pulled one of his old t-shirts over her head and removed his hands. 

He looked personally offended.

“You can see them tomorrow, Dorian.” She led him out of the closet and back into their bedroom. 

“No!” he said, throwing himself down onto their bed with tears in his eyes. “It won’t be the same.” He stomped his heel like a petulant child, and she ignored him as she pulled the covers up over them both. “You keep them so far away. They need to be free, Manon.” He was openly crying now and she was having a hard time not laughing. “You don’t understand,” he said. She turned off the light.

“I do understand, Dorian. You can play with them tomorrow.”

“Do you promise?” he said, sniffing back tears.

“I promise.” He cuddled up to her back.

A moment passed.

“Hey, Manon?”

“Yes, Dorain.”

“Do you think it’d be okay if I just held one to fall asleep?” She sighed and reached around patting the blanket for his hand in the dark. “They get scared,” he said.

“It’s fine, Dorian. Give me your hand.” But she didn’t need to ask because as soon as she gave permission, he pulled her onto her back and laid both hands on her breasts–nuzzling his face between them for the night.

She snorted. Trying not to laugh.

“Shhhh,” he said. “We’re sleeping.”

She wrapped her arms around him and fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm PropShopHannah on Tumblr


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